


Victrola

by Hello_Spikey



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-23
Updated: 2013-05-23
Packaged: 2019-10-11 03:52:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17439422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hello_Spikey/pseuds/Hello_Spikey
Summary: Some of Angel's family find him in America and introduce him to new things.





	Victrola

**Author's Note:**

> Yes. I apparently want to write a lot of random Spangel lately, rather than do anything productive.
> 
> This is fairly PG. Sorry, will try better next time. Quoted song lyrics are from "Empty Bed Blues" by the incomparable Bessie Smith.

William came home one night with an oak cabinet on his shoulder. He set it down proudly in the parlor.

"Ye've gone to stealing furniture, boy?" Angelus scowled and came to inspect it. "I can't get you interested in any of the finer things, and you bring home cabinetry!"

"It's a Victrola, you out-of-touch old sod" William declared, caressing the swirled decoration proudly.

Drusilla draped herself on top of it. "It's a magic box full of music. Dancing ladies and swirling lights." She rolled onto her belly, laughing.

William calmly urged her off and opened the top of the cabinet. He took a handle out and fitted it in a socket on the side. Angelus watched, hoping he didn't look too bewildered, as William set to preparing the device with a studious care he hadn't thought the boy capable of.

Suddenly a rollicking gin-hall melody boomed from the cabinet, like a pianoforte and a whole band were concealed inside it. Angelus gaped in wonder while William took Drusilla by the hand and threw her about in the sloppy sort of polka that was popular with the kids these days.

Angelus got control of himself. "That's not music," he said. "It's noise. Really, William, if you were going to bring home a contraption like this, you could have picked one that played real melodies."

William muttered something that might have been "sad old bastard", and Angelus felt he was losing his hold on the situation.

It was the first time he genuinely felt old.

***

After gaining his soul, the last thing Angel wanted was to run into any of his vampiric family. It was why he'd gone to America, leaving Europe to them. But it seemed they were not so easy to avoid.

He awoke suddenly one morning in the early 20's to the loud sound of jazz. Blearily, he registered the basement around him. He's broken into the warehouse just before dawn in the midst of a terrible rainstorm, thinking it a quiet, unobtrusive place to spend the day. Now it sounded like a party was in full-swing over his head.

Hoping he could scare the revelers off and get another few hours of unbroken rest, he climbed up the stairs in game face and threw open the door at the top with a roar.

William sat indian-style in the center of the empty room, sorting through phonograph records while Drusilla danced around a road-weary cabinet behind him. She wore a scanty costume like they were wearing these days - all gauze and black sequins. William was looking at him with one eyebrow raised. "I knew we should have checked for pests. Look at you, Angelus! Been through a war?"

Angel felt his features slip back into human form. "You still have the Victrola?"

"Daddy!" Drusilla shrieked, and threw herself into his arms. She pulled back with a frown. "You smell awful, Daddy. Have you been eating rats?"

William got fluidly to his feet. "The things she says!" He laughed and tugged Dru's arm, jealously pulling her into an embrace. "Where have you been, old man? You look like shite."

Angel's clothes were disheveled and dirty. He had a bad time caring about his looks, these days. He smoothed the torn jacket and tried to remember what he would have said, how he would have acted. He couldn't let them know...

Drusilla's head was cocked to the side, her too-clear eyes studying him.

Angel coughed and strode up to the Victrola. He snatched the needle off the record. "Enough of this garbage. I suppose you like this modern caterwauling. It's not music."

"Here we go again," William said. He and Drusilla still swayed, like they were dancing. He stood behind her, his hands splayed on her hips, his chin on her shoulder. "Too saucy for you, old man?"

"It ruins it to just come right out and say the song is about sex," Angel said, peevishly warming to his subject. "There used to be an art to song lyrics. Now it's all 'put a hot dog in my roll'. It's insulting."

"Not gotten any good rolls lately, eh?"

Angel put the cabinet safely between himself and the evil couple. He tried to look angry and authoritative. "I need clean clothes and a bath. Now."

You didn't have to mention clothing twice to Drusilla. She was still as fond as ever of 'dressing daddy' and ran off clapping and singing. Angel relaxed a bit, having only William to deal with, and William was far less observant than Drusilla. Or, really, your average rock. Though he was looking at Angel with worrisome intensity.

Angel cleared his throat. "So what have you been doing, William? Wasting your time with jazz and booze?"

"Something like," William said. "And it's Spike."

Angel turned his back and took off his jacket. The shirt underneath was definitely not fit for the light of day, so he took it off, too. "I can see I should have checked up on you before this. I ran into some trouble, though." He coughed. "Uh... vampire hunters."

Behind him, the music started again with a scratch. William had changed out the record for something slower and sultry. Angel turned to see him slouch toward him, smiling a wicked half-smile. "I think it's you who needed checking up on." He stopped just in front of Angel and added, half-mockingly, "Sire." He grabbed the bottom of Angel's under-shirt. "You can hardly dress yourself on your own." With a quick motion he tore the shirt in two and tossed it aside.

Angel stared in shock at the pale hand on his chest, and looked up to see William bite his lower lip with a playful smile. "Oh," Angel said. And then, more firmly. "OH. Well, lad." He picked William's hand up. "I think _you_ need a lesson in manners."

William cocked an eyebrow, insufferably amused. He stepped back, leading Angel unwillingly into a slow waltz. The Victrola crooned, "He's a deep sea diver with a stroke that can't go wrong. He can stay at the bottom and his wind holds out so long."

William leaned close, his ear brushing Angel's cheek, and said, "I think you need a lesson in modern song lyrics."

Angel shivered. His voice came out rough. "Why don't you show me, boy."

William undid Angel's flies and sank slowly to the floor, taking Angel's slacks down with him. Looking up like he was getting away with something, he took Angel's cock in hand and licked the tip.

"He knows how to thrill me, he thrills me night and day. He's got a new way of loving, almost takes my breath away."

Angel gasped, felt himself swallowed to the root, and suddenly felt completely amenable to modern music.


End file.
